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ADJUSTING TO ADULTING/ THE END OF A DECADE

12/18/2019

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Get comfortable.
This is a lot like Last Call on The DropOut (a long but insightful origin story)
I wrote the majority of RUGRAT, The Project in 2017 (~3 years ago). At that time I completed undergrad at Stony Brook leaving behind the security of an English Teacher’s position to be a Poet. This was around the same time that I began to DELVE DEEPER into alchemy. That new knowledge helped me throw away the safety net of secure employment. I would not have had thIS privilege without the support of my family. I found work as a front desk attendant and I devoted myself to a project of 217 poems, essays, and anecdotes. I had a schedule, one new poem posted weekly here on my website, (check them out BELOW). I would be finished writing in a year. I kept it up for some time but soon enough I realized it was unsustainable so I relieved myself of that commitment. I still planned to write the book but I wouldn’t force it.

A friend asked me how was I doing. I told him I was “adjusting to adulting” he said “I like the sound of that”. I did too and I began to write my first song since the 6th grade. Back then, in the 6th grade I was inspired by the Mos Defs, Talib Kwalis, Missy Elliots, and Kanyes of the world to write Lyrical Reign, a rap that I still perform. It was dope but Rapper didn’t seem like a sustainable career at the time. Fast forward a decade or so and I was right back where I started. I proceeded with major insecurities. Rap still didn’t guarantee success or stability. And I didn’t feel worthy or equipped enough to create the music my mind composed. Growing up in church I was surrounded by fantastical musicians including the late great Sharon Jones. They were all naturally talented. My voice was a whimper fading into the background. I was a thinker and a writer I would just stick to what I was good at AND leave the music to the musicians. Yup, that was the plan until “adjusting to adulting”.

5 songs later, no beats, and no where to record. I was uncertain what to do next. I just kept writing and rapping to my best friend Finessa during cyphs. She continuously urged me to follow through. I FINALLY reached out to a friend from high school, Joshua of THE Provider PRODUCTION KNOWN AT THAT TIME AS OUTSPACEOUS. We started building, he let me record in his closet studio and together with my vision and his skill we created most of the production. Things were falling into place but I felt with more help they could move faster. That’s when Ayala my main mans came in. Together we went to concerts, festivals, and AC3. We TOOK notes AND STRATEGIZED. I owe so much of my progress to her support.

In 2018 I reached out to Shay another High School (BBACD) connect (I only made like 2 friends in college lol). I wanted him to produce the beat for Lyrical Reign, retitled Rugrat. That song didn’t make it into the EP but it became the title of the Project.
AROUND THAT TIME I BECAME ACQUAINTED WITH ANOTHER ARTIST WHO LET ME RECORD IN HIS HOME STUDIO AS WELL. HIS BROTHER, YUNG SHUG PRODUCED AND I HEARD TWO OF HIS BEATS THAT WENT PERFECTLY WITH LUNDEGOON AND SOLOMON. We finally arrived at what looked like the last lap, Engineering. I found a dope ass producer/ engineer/ FILMAKER to mix and master the project through one of the few connections I made in college. I thought Shelton, who would later connect me to my amazing voice coach and friend Abrielle, would be my fairy godFather. He would use his magic to take all the rough drafts and my creative direction to create The masterpiece i Envisioned. I thought my work was done. I thought wrong. My hopes came crashing down as soon as quick as they rose. Turned out my tracks were not compatible with his DAW. SIMPLY PUT, I needed to re-record.

DOUBT AROSE AND I was frustrated. Almost 2 years devoted to something I had not planned. Something that was uncertain and unsupported. It made no sense. I was completely independent with no audience. I was investing my time, my money, my being into something that promised no profit. I thought of giving up. That would be the smart thing to do "but at what cost” (Yes, I QUOTE MYSELF). I knew that if I didn’t pursue my calling I would die... Just wither up on the inside and die I tell you! So I re-recorded. By then Ayala had invested in some equipment and we went to work at her house.

The music was completed the Summer of 2019 and I planned to release it on my birthday, July 31st just one month before my first art show, Urban Alchemy. But there was more (there is always more). Cover art, distribution, and promotion. I was overwhelmed. I just wanted to create.

My mental state didn’t help. Most people experience seasonal depression. Melancholy settles in with the cold. But summers have been hard for me. I did not celebrate on my birthday. I spent it in a wet haze of tears and smoke. I felt alone even though Finessa came by to listen to my woes. ThIS calling began to feel like a curse.

I DRAGGED MYSELF THROUGH the dark.
Urban Alchemy was My lighT. It put some hope in my heart. The show we (Ayala, Stray, and Jahan) put together was amazing. The people who came out have been etched into my memory and my heart.
But that lIght dimmed.
My ego brought me down from that high. One incident led me to believe that no one understood me or my genius. I was all alone, forgetting in that moment all the people aforementioned. I was offended and upset. But I didn’t want to curl up in a ball and die this time. No I wanted to fuck some shit up first. DEPRESSION GAVE WAY TO RAGE. I realized I was alone and this was my vision. No one could invest the way I could because they could not see it. I realized that if I wanted it to get done it would be by my own efforts. Although it was my faulty ego that brought me to this truth. It was still true. I used that energy as fuel.

I dropped Solomon, my first song from the Project on September 2nd, my niece’s birthday.
My godmother and #1 fan Carol leaked it to my family. They were on board. Even my grandmother, a pastor enjoyed it. She said, “It’s about weed but it’s good”. That is my favorite review so far. None of this would be possible without the foundation that I have in my family. After their approval no one could tell me anything.

I designed and updated my website, myself
I designed the cover art, myself
I promoted, myself (not by choice feel free to help lol)
I wrote and performed all of this, myself
And I released this shit, myself
(ALL PLATFORMS)
I am proud and I am glad I can put this on record.
This will be nice to return to when the world recognizes what I have always known...
I am a fucking genius.

Hell, we are all geniuses in one way or another we just need to realize it.
Claim it.
But geniuses can’t work alone

THIS HAS BEEN A GROUP EFFORT

I could not have actualized this vision without the people that I have been blessed to connect and work with. People who said yes just because.

I needed that fueL THOUGH. THE FUEL OF FEELING ALONE AND MISUNDERSTOOD. That FUEL drOve ME to prove myself. But NOW AS I REFLECT I am glad TO HAVE EVOLVED FROM THAT SPACE. I have nothing to prove NOW. Just things to do. And I will do them in alignment to my calling and my TRUTH.

The moral of this story is
The world will not acknowledge your vision, your genius, or your divinity until you show them.
SO SHOW THEM,
then help will appear

...
RUGRAT was a labor of love.
...
it is a declaration
It is the sound of growing pains
It is the product of faith.
IT IS A SPACE WHERE MY GIFTS MERGE.
It is my beginning.
And this is not the end.
Rugrat is the tip of an iceberg...
Please know that there is more…


UP NEXT
JANUARY 10, 2020
BBYLUN Presents Rugrat the Experience/
SOLOMON Music Video PREMIER
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all summer '17

7/22/2017

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​MY PEOPLE EMERGE FROM THEIR HOMES TO SHOOT THE DOZENS ON THEIR FRONT STOOPS. OUR BABIES FROLIC UP AND DOWN CONCRETE BLOCKS THROUGH FIRE HYDRANT SPRINKLERS, WITH MELTED ICYS TRICKLING DOWN THEIR FOREARMS. HEAT RISES BUT WE CLIMB FIRE ESCAPES TO GET A BETTER VIEW. damn! my city is beautiful. A LOCAL BUSINESS MAN ADVERTISES NUTCRACKERS! ON A CROWDED TRAIN. but YOU MIGHT CATCH US  WITH DA HENNY, A NIGHT CRAWLERS bev. AND NOW WE FETIN', IN SOMEBODY'S YARD BLASTING SOCA AND WE CHIPPING. BUT NOT BEFORE THERES MILLY ROCKS ON ALL THE BLOCKS. SOMEBODY SCREAMING IN MY EAR BUT I’M GOOD JUST DANCING WITH MY FRIENDS, INHALING MY YOUTH with the j. THESE ARE THE SWEATY NIGHTS I LIVE FOR JUST JUKING AND JIVING WITH THE HOMIES, HOOTING AND HOLLERING WITH MY FAM IF IT WERE UP TO ME ​SUMMER WOULD KNOW NO END.

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kissing death

7/22/2017

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​It settled on my back 
Like an anvil crushing my spine, 
The black fog of depression 
Emerging from my own pores
Began to suffocate me. 

Like a monsoon following a forrest fire 
It swept in
Smothering every flame 
That ignited my will to live.
and Like a rabid dog gnawing the fur
and Flesh from her own paw
I tried to severe my mortal limb, 

i needed To liberate myself from this hell 

But another part of me knew
This life could be heaven too
So I held myself in the dark,  
Comforting the dreary girl 
With dead eyes,
she is full of hate
but she deserves love too
So I've learned how to
Kiss her even when she is trying to kill me

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senses: time capsules

6/12/2017

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Our memories smell like 
show cigarillos 
Our memories taste like 
the sweat on your skin 
Our memories sound like 
every song on the tip of my tongue 
Our memories feel like 
your strands twirling themselves 
Between my index and thumb.

​Last night i saw you in a dream.

I tried to forget,
But my senses 
Have no sense of time. 
They hold onto you
Even though I've let you go. 
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roots

6/12/2017

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​I buried myself before my first bud sprung
I learned to only let the pretty parts show

Then,
Rough winds, and floods stole my petals
I was bare and cold 
part of me died on the surface

Now you will find the rest of me
beneath the soil Digging, to
Tend to my mangled roots 
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breathe: a meditation of sorts

5/10/2017

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​Breathe,
There is only now.

Anger is futile. 

Fear is a lie.

god is love.

And sugar, you are magic--
​You are composed of stardust
you harness all of the elements
your Heart pumps with electric fire 
Your Flesh is crafted from earth 
there is Water and blood coursing beneath your skin
Embers of soul fuel your form,
and you bend air to fill your lungs--

be still,
Breathe, and bear witness to the miracle that is you 
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how to fix a broken mirror

5/1/2017

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​I used to curse at the broken girl in the mirror
Because she gave me sore eyes

I was a prisoner in her body,
A stranger in her skin
We were no match
Then I tried looking at her again
I wanted her appearance to change
But it was the soul that transformed

now, I am mending her
I have pierced my fingers on her jagged edge
Still, I continue to fuse her shards
Because she is my mosaic Mona Lisa
A monument rising from ruins
So i tell her, I love her
I show her, I love her
I kiss her forehead before bed

​i've learned to wear my scars well
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hand outs

4/24/2017

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​They call our Reparations 
Hand outs
Well that's fitting,
 
our hands were out
when we were picking their cotton 
Our hands were out 
when we were cutting their cane 
Our hands were out 
harvesting their indigo
our hands were out 
creating their inheritance  
OUR TEETS WERE OUT  
nourishing THEIR WIVES' CHILDREN  
AND THE BASTARDS THEY RAPED US FOR 
but DIDN'T CLAIM  
Our bodies were out 
oiled and sold on auction blocks
Our bodies were out
swinging in the breeze,
charred hanging from poplar trees 

I'm sure a black hand was out
Looking for something to cling to
when they bombed Tulsa 
Black hands were up in praise
Before they bombed the church in montgomery
​killing those 4 black girls
Black hands were up in praise 
before that white devil
emptied a barrel in a black church in charleston
Black hands are up in the air
Pleading don't shoot
Black bodies are bleeding out
on the concrete  
laid down by boys in red white and blue

American TERRORISM persists
on American soil
To exterminate the black bill
But we are still here 
With our hands out holding receipts 
because  It's time to collect the debt
payment is overdue
america, you owe us
Freedom, 40 acres and a mule
but you won't Give us
what you owe us 
You'd rather we take it from you
and we will
with interest.

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swim

4/17/2017

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I couldn't swim
But I knew how not to drown
A lifetime of Wading waters
with anchors Knotted 'round my ankles
taught me how to hold my breath

I could even float
Body buoyant in the waves
I was weightless I could drift off
But not far
Each link but an inch of Imprisoned freedom
I was a feather in a cage
Those chains were constantly tugging
Reminding me to stay
They tied me to The anchors cast in ego and fear
Those anchors weighed a ton
But they were not real
I manifested them with my tongue
And they made a home in my mind
Marinated themselves In sin and my self doubt
They were parasites feeding on my light
Growing just to weigh me down
They wouldn't budge
I couldn't phase them
So I accepted my fate

Until the night
I had to teach myself to humble the ego
i taught myself to scare fear
I transformed
the shackles Were loose around my new frame
​I taught myself how to swim in chains

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gutter water

4/8/2017

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from the fire escape
i watched a crow perch hersef
on the edge of the gutter
​her legs bent back as
she bowed and took a sip of water
her thirst quenched 
she flew off 

her blelly, riding the breeze
her beak, PIERCing the air
her wings, making love to the wind
she disappeared into the horizon

in those moments
she showed me the existence of
unicorns beneath sagging jeans
heart beats echoing in starving bellies
breath in depression
she taught me how to
drink water from the gutter

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